


Permanence

by feedthegrimmjows (Dance_Elle_Dance)



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/feedthegrimmjows
Summary: His ashes stain her fingertips, still.(Originally posted on 2/2/13.)
Relationships: Inoue Orihime/Kurosaki Ichigo, Ulquiorra Cifer/Inoue Orihime
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Permanence

**Author's Note:**

> I just love this pair. They are my OTP for this fandom. I really hope you enjoys this short little story!

The whole thing is silly, really.

Orihime has been over it several times - _more_ than several, if she were to be honest with herself - and each time she ends up feeling a strange tautness in her chest, an emptiness where it should not be.

She replays the moment in her mind, over and over. Each and every time she feels that she might be remembering things differently, or they might be accurate. Like an old film viewed countless times, it loses its luster and clarity, becoming nothing but scrambled messages.

Still, she tries.

Dissolving wings, dissolving legs and arms and torso, those intelligent eyes that gazed upon her with such muted contemplation.

A clawed hand, reaching for her own.

And her own hand, reaching back.

She finds herself almost clawing at the bare space in front of her just thinking of it, just thinking of that particular moment in time, as if replicating her actions would bring him back in front of her, and she might be able to save him.

But that is foolish; there is no bringing Ulquiorra back this time. Or ever, for that matter.

The dreams that so often plague her consciousness have become tinged with that single event. One moment, she could be thinking about Kurosaki-kun and how he was so brave in fighting Aizen and saving them all, but then - almost like a flash-cut in a movie - there will be a shock of green overtaking her vision.

After that one instant, Orihime finds an unbearable sadness consumes her.

Not without reason, of course.

She breathes in a bit, trying to steady her now racing heart. It is rather odd, that she still feels this way, after all this time. But, then again, maybe it is not. Maybe it is normal for her to feel such a connection to someone, one that cannot be severed, even in death.

Uncertainty fills her. Not an odd emotion, all things considered, but an unwelcome one. Her feelings for Ulquiorra have always had this effect on her. Have always filled her with a sense of the unknown. Her feelings for Kurosaki-kun have always been concrete, defined, but when Ulquiorra is thrown into the picture, she finds herself to be dreadfully confused.

She closes her eyes, curling her outstretched fingers into a fist, and there it is again. A moment in time that flashes through her memories.

Ashes.

She feels the grittiness of them as they float across her fingers, lining the creases of her palms, brushing against the whiteness of Hueco Mundo garb. She feels the ashes stain her fingertips, and no matter how many times she scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, the feeling doesn't go away.

The image of him is staring at her now, his eyes so sad in his face, but tinged with recognition, almost as if an epiphany had been made.

Her chest _aches_ for him.

Guiltily, she presses her small fist to her chest, right over her heart, feeling its shaky beat beneath the cage of bone. A shaky breath escapes her as she clenches her eyes shut, as if to escape her thoughts. But that is no good, not at all.

She must stop this, must stop _feeling._

 _Ulquiorra._ His name floats across her mind, and just this once, Orihime allows herself to take refuge in it.

Just this once, she lets herself remember his every movement; his every word; every taut line and stretched, thin muscle of his body. She allows herself to think of him as if they were friends - and really, she believes they were, for a time.

Her mouth twitches into a smile, a broken and sad thing, but a smile nonetheless.

And in this one moment, she allows herself to miss him.


End file.
